


Roses and Sacrifice

by rosesxsacrifice



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesxsacrifice/pseuds/rosesxsacrifice
Summary: ~words only won't suffice~~roses and sacrifice for you~Max tries his best to keep his last promise made to Mitch, who inspires him to reconnect with his own father.Zoey struggles with grief and takes up new hobbies to cope, whilst leaning on her best friend and dealing with growing feelings towards him.(written in first person with alternating perspectives)
Relationships: Zoey Clarke & Max Richman
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	1. the endless darkening ocean waters that I call the 'deathfull void' are becoming way too tempting today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max visits Mitch's grave, updating him on his last promise made to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, a first person ZEP fic? Not to many of those. The song "Roses and Sacrifice" was the inspiration for the title of this book, and before I even started writing this, used as my username. Its gonna alternate points of view. I'll try to get Zoey's up soon. There won't be a song for chapters in Max's pov, but I'll just share a song for my inspiration. I really hope you enjoy this fic and I hope that the fact that I wrote it at two am isn't too obvious. Also, kinda new to the formatting of this website and its a bit confusing the way they set it up. Btw, you can follow me on Quotev (not a dead website, just small) @rosesxsacrifice!

[song-"my hero"-foo fighters](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqWRaAF6_WY)

Max

“Hey, Mitch,” I spoke to the headstone in front of me. “Thought I’d come by for a visit.”

I don’t know what inspired me to come here alone. It almost felt like an invasion of privacy. But, I felt I owed it to the man who always welcomed me into his family to make sure he knew that his daughter would always be protected. 

“It’s me, uh, Max. Richman. In case you forgot,” I shook my head. In case you forgot? Come on. “Just me.”

It had been three weeks since the funeral. None of the Clarke’s were emotionally ready to come back to the man’s grave to visit, a judgment I made as I saw the wilting flowers on his grave. 

“I-uh, I brought you some flowers. They’re Lillies, I don’t know if they’re your favorite but there’s pretty much always a bouquet somewhere in the Clarke house.” I kneeled down to take out the old wilted bouquet and put the new ones in. I sighed and stared at the headstone, placing my hand gently on the top of it for a second.

“I know I told you that you wouldn’t have to worry about Zoey, and I’m gonna keep that promise. I owe it to you and her. You were always a better father to me than my own dad had ever been, and I just wanna make it up to you.”

The words “Bigger moments bigger memories” looked back at me.

“I’ll make sure that all her big moments make the biggest memories. Like you always said. I know I have your blessing.

I recalled that moment almost a year ago at a Sunday barbeque Zoey had invited me to. Mitch had just gotten diagnosed. But he was still able to walk with a cane and talk at the time.

He sat me down and handed me a beer while Zoey and Maggie were setting up the table. We usually talked sports, (I pretended to like the Oakland Athletics over the San Fran Giants to make a good impression on him) but as he sat down he gave me a look that sent fear through my chest.

“So. I wanted to talk to you about something,” Mitch began, words a bit slurred. I nodded, taking a sip of my beer. “I can tell you have feelings for my daughter.”

I almost spit out my beer. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me. Weren’t so subtle there with the flowers.” Mitch said. Right, the flowers I had brought for Zoey. 

“I-uh” I didn’t know how to respond. 

“I’m not trying to sound protective of her or anything, but,” Mitch took sip of his beer. “I trust you. You two have been joined at the hip for years now. So if you wanna ask her out, go ahead, I’m rooting for you, son.”

“Wow, thanks, Mitch,” was all I could say. 

“Of course,” Mitch sighed, looking over at Maggie. “You probably won’t understand this now, but time is so, so precious.”

“Yep,” I replied awkwardly. I took another sip of my beer as I looked over at Zoey. As she sat at the table and talked to her mother. At the time I didn’t have a word for how I felt about Zoey, but I definitely knew she was something special. I couldn’t help but notice how the light made her hair look even more sunset-colored.

“You won’t wanna miss a second,” Mitch said. I understood, for the most part, what he meant. Zoey called me on the night they found out. The disease was, in most cases, terminal. Maggie and Mitch were perfect together, how could they have known about what would happen to him?

As Maggie walked up to the porch Mitch’s expression changed. “So how about the A’s losing to the Yankees?”

I sat up in my chair a little bit. “Eh well, I’m a New Yorker. Gotta love my Yanks.”

“You boys don’t be having too much fun there,” Maggie said, patting Mitch on the shoulder. I laughed and Mitch smiled. Zoey, who contrary to her normal work attire was wearing a Nasa shirt and shorts, with a SPRQPoint cap that was free from a conference, her ponytail looped through the strap.

“Sports,” she said, sitting down in the chair next to me. “Sports sports. Sportssportssports.” She turned her hat around backwards and positioned her legs the way that me and Mitch were both sitting. “Did you hear about sports? Oh my god, that guy totally got the hole in one and the touch down and the home run in sports last night.” 

Zoey kept up the bit for as long as she could, but it was me who started laughing first. How did she always do that? Zoey smiled and punched me lightly in the arm. I snatched her hat and turned it back around, pointing the brim down so it would cover her eyes.

“Oh no, you have blinded me, Maxwell,” she said in a monotoned voice like a robot as she lifted the hat out of her eyes. Mitch looked amused.

“We do talk about other things besides sports you know,” Mitch said, winking at me. Oh no, dude. 

“If it wasn’t sports, it was cars. You can’t say that I’m wrong.” Zoey said, shrugging. She wasn’t wrong. Mitch and I were both kind of car fanatics. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Maggie called from the kitchen.

“Good. I’m starving,” Zoey said. She turned to me, leaning slightly in my direction. “Don’t worry I saved you a spot.”

Zoey left. Mitch was right. I was definitely in love with his daughter.

I now stared at the man’s grave. 

“Zoey misses you. This has been tough for her, but you and Maggie raised her to be strong. I know she’ll get through it. I have no idea what’s ahead of me, especially because I’m out of a job at the moment, but whatever it is, Zoey’s a part of it.” 

I could feel that Mitch was smiling from beyond. 

“And one more thing. You taught me time is precious. Things with my dad haven’t been good for years, but I think maybe if I talk to him things could get better.”I stood up, picking up the old wilted flowers. 

“You've inspired a change in me, Mr.Clarke.” 

* * *

  
_**2.9 pages · 1055 words** _   
  
  
  
  



	2. ❝my heart is in the puppet box, and satan pulls the strings❞

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey is singing again. Unfortunately the song has two parts. (chapter title is from the song "Satan Pulls the Strings" by The Avett Brothers.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little while, I don't always have access to a computer! These next few chapters were gonna be all one chapter, so that's why its kinda short, but I kinda just wanted them to be separated. Also i don't know if anybody will notice but I try to make my chapter titles interesting. So yeah that's it enjoy.

_[Again Today/Hiding My Heart by Brandi Carlile](https://youtu.be/VPS7RSCtRBs) _

**_Zoey_ **

_ Three weeks.  _

How long have I been counting the days? Have I been counting the days? I don't know anymore. I did anything to make myself feel better. I've found myself humming songs, too. Sad songs. Mo said something about it the other day, but it definitely wasn't a complaint, it was just a "hey are you okay because you're singing out loud" kinda something. He offered vocal lessons. I declined. 

I haven't been in contact with anybody besides Max. I had only came home after a week of staying home with Mom before she made me leave to go back to my apartment.

It was only now that I noticed the lack of color throughout the place. Any form of decoration was a nerdy space poster or programmer novelty. A disappointing lack of color. That's how I'm feeling, too.

I sigh as I feel it coming on.

_ Broken sticks and broken stones _

_ Will turn to dust just like our bones _

_ It's words that hurt the most, now isn't it? _

I can't stop myself from getting up to do whatever dance I had to do. I didn't even go against it. I was a puppet in my own head.

_ Are you sad inside, are you home alone _

_ If I could just pick up the phone _

_ Maybe you could see a better day _

My body floats around the coffee table, letting me see the text message that popped up from Max. 

_ And you won't waste away _

_ Under my watchful eye _

_ Because I'm your hero and you're my weakness _

That's the thing about singing songs out loud. Feelings come out without any filter.

_ Who's gonna break my fall _

_ When the spinning starts _

_ The colors bleed together and fade _

_ Was it ever there at all _

Oh man. This song is tough.

_ Or have I lost my way _

_ The path of least resistance _

_ Is catching up with me again today _

Again Today. Must be the name of the song.

_ I'm broken down, not good enough _

_ The broken promises add up _

_ To twice their weight in tears which I have caused _

_ I'm afraid to sink, I'm afraid to swim _

_ I'm sad to say I miss my friends _

_ I know that I'm supposed to step away _

I'm not even fully focused on the song.I'm that numb inside. I can't keep up with the fluid interpretive dance carrying my body along with the music in my head.

_ But they need me to stay and keep a watchful eye _

_ On all my heroes and all their demons _

Here we go again.

_ But who's gonna break my fall? _

_ When the spinning starts _

_ The colors bleed together and fade _

_ Was it ever there at all?  _

The volume of the song picks up. Apologies to Mo, who could definitely hear all the noise I was making.

_ Or have I lost my way _

_ The path of least resistance _

_ Is catching up with me again today _

_ Not today _

_ Not today  _

I dance around as the instrumentals in my head take over.

_ Broken sticks and broken stones _

_ Will turn to dust just like our bones again today _

_ I'm broken down _

_ Not good enough _

_ The broken promises add up again today.  _

The music calms down as the song comes to an end.

_ Was it ever there at all _

_ And have I lost my way _

_ The path of least resistance _

_ Is catching up with me again today _

_ Again today. _

I reached out and touched my reflection in the mirror. I sighed and went back to the couch flopping down, wishing that the cushions didn’t exist so I could just fall forever. 

I look over at my phone, and as I wonder if I should take it apart and put it back together to make myself feel better, a text from Max distracts me.

**_Hey, wanna do a movie night?_ **

_ Yeah, but it might have to be at your place. Mines a mess :/ _

**_That’s fine. 7 good?_ **

_ Yep. See you then. _

My spirits lifted up a little. If there was one person who could lift my mood now, it was Max. He always was nice to be around, but now, its more prominent. 

Had I thought of  _ that kiss _ that happened on  _ that night? _ Of course. But I’d never let myself shoulder the weight of my father’s death onto Max. 

As for Simon, I hadn’t really given much thought. He’d check on me now and then by sending a text, but they didn’t give me butterflies like they’d used to. We did connect over the shared experience of grief, but his was unexpected, but mine was drawn out. He didn’t have to watch his dad suffer, or at least didn’t realize he was. The thing we did share though, was that they were both gone.

A thumbs up text from Max prompted me to get up and take a shower. I decided to do something a little different, and straightened my hair for once. 

_ That’s too much _ , I thought as I looked at the finished results. I didn’t even straighten my hair for the funeral. I knew Max probably didn’t think about my hair and might not even notice, but something told me it was too much. So I put it in a low ponytail, leaving out a few long strands along with my bangs. Then I did a little bit of makeup. 

I put that festival shirt Simon gave me to good use, pairing it with a soft pair of sweats and my thickest-soled white shoes. Then to make my depression drip (a term I just coined) a little more like I had put effort into it, I put on a simple gold necklace. 

This look was a little less colorful than I usually go for. Max told me that he can usually spot me in a crowd because a.) redhead and b.) I’m usually wearing a bright color. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good sweater. That’s one thing that will never change.

I left my apartment feeling a little bit better.

* * *

I knocked three times on Max’s apartment door. I could already smell the aroma that he carried around with him from behind it, and it comforted me as it always does. As it always  _ did. _ Max opened the door.

“Hey!” his face lights up.

“Hey,” I say, feeling my cheeks get a little bit warm.  _ Stop blushing. He’s your best friend. Who you might have kissed once.  _

He lets me in and I set down my bag as he walks into the kitchen. I scan the space. It had been a while since I had been there. It looked like a man’s apartment, but a man who’s mom comes by and he keeps his stuff clean and decorated so that his mom won’t comment on it when she visits. But I also know his mom doesn’t visit. And of course that’s one more thing on the list of “things that are charming about Max Richman”.

Max’s apartment has a lot of personality to it, too. There are all sorts of posters.  _ Star Trek _ posters, which I disagreed with  _ entirely _ , but that argument was said and done. Some of his favorite albums, including “The Wall” and “Dark Side of the Moon” by Pink Floyd, and “Purple Rain” by Prince. And of course that Super Mario poster we got at San Diego ComicCon a few years ago. And of course, the piano, not a grand, but one that was realistic for a millennial's apartment. It was made of a rich dark wood, and had sheet music resting on it, with the lid closed. 

“Popcorn’s almost ready, any idea what you wanna watch?” Max asked from the kitchen, leaning over the bar. I grabbed my book of DVDs from my bag. 

“I don’t know, lets see,” I say, flipping the book open. “Seen  _ City of Angels _ before?”

“Oh, yeah, that movies got some  _ great _ music in it,” Max replies as the microwave beeps. 

“But,  _ ugh _ , Nicolas Cage…” I sigh. I walk over to the bar plopping myself down on stool.

“What about him?” Max asks, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet. 

“Are you kidding me? The guy scares me.”

“ _ City of Angels  _ is still a great movie,” Max defends. I shift in my seat a little bit, flipping the pages. “But, um, you know, we don’t really have to watch it if you don’t feel like it, we could always do something more-”

“It’s okay, Max. I can get over my fear of Nicolas Cage for a couple hours.” I knew what he meant by that, because  _ City of Angels _ is a bit sad, but I came here to forget about that. 

Max looks at me with those sweet, caring eyes. Like he can see right through me. “Okay.  _ City of Angels  _ it is then.”

I smiled as he walked over to the couch. As we both sat down, he kept his eyes fixed on the table and fiddled with his fingers. 

“Max?” I ask.

“Hmm?” he says, looking up at me, wide eyed.

“Are...you okay? You look bothered.”

“Was I just singing to you? How’d you know?”

“Um, no actually,” I say. I place a hand over his. “Because if there’s something you wanna talk about you can tell me.”

“Well, I didn’t know if you wanted me to bring up your dad, but,” he starts. My heart stings a bit at the mention, but I listen. “It just got me thinking, you know, about  _ my  _ dad. And I figured, well, I’d probably regret not talking to him when-”

“When he’s gone.” I finish his sentence.Max leans back a little bit and sighs as I let my hand travel up to his shoulder, feeling his muscles underneath relax.

“Yeah. So I called him,”

“What happened?” I ask eagerly.

“Well, he didn’t answer, so I left a message, I just kinda told him why I think we just needed to talk out our differences and whatever.”

“So did he call you back?” I question.

“No, not yet.” He says, staring at his hands. My hand unconsciously floats to his face, turning his chin in my direction. His eyes lock on mine, with those sweet brown eyes.

“He would want you to do this,” I whisper. _How easy would it be to fall into him right now._ _Forget everything that hurts._

“I know,” Max replies in a low voice. I pretend not to feel butterflies in my stomach as his eyes float down to my lips.  _ No, you can’t hurt him again _ , I tell myself. I look down and let my head rest on his shoulder, sighing. Absorbing his warmth.

We just kinda sit like that for a little while. His arm wraps around me. Suddenly the sound of silence is the most blissful thing in the world. Just the sound of our own thoughts between us, the feeling of each others warmth, and knowing the burdens of each other.

I know I’ve changed. Max still keeps me around which is enough for me to get up in the morning. Right now, currently, he’s my only reason. Which is also precisely why I can’t have him. I can’t hurt him again, no matter how much I love him. But moving on is so hard. Max deserves someone who is whole and unbroken. But right now, as I am but shards of someone, I know I can’t give him that. 

I think back to the song again.

_ But who's gonna break my fall? _

_ When the spinning starts _

_ The colors bleed together and fade _

_ Was it ever there at all?  _

_ Or have I lost my way? _

_ The path of least resistance _

_ Is catching up with me again today. _

  
  
  
  



End file.
